


What Goes Around...

by thatwriterlady



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge 2015 [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bobby's House, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Big Brothers, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Karma - Freeform, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Protective Bobby Singer, Smartass Dean, Thoughtful Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam live with their Uncle Bobby after their dad practically abandons them, and they don't mind, they love their uncle and he adores them, but Dean's a smartass that thinks it's perfectly fine to tease his uncle over his aches and pains and other issues that come with getting older.</p><p>Good thing Cas is there to put him in his place.  And you know that old addage;</p><p>What Goes Around, Comes Around...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Goes Around...

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the the 30 Day Writing Challenge. This one is on Ageism. I toyed with this one, unsure where I wanted to take it, but thanks to Monijune, I was able to come up with this. Still plowing on with these, so while it's not long, I do hope you all enjoy it.

**2002**  
Dean- Age 14  
Cas- Age 14  
Sam- Age 10 

 

Bobby was busy slaving over the stove when the boys came in the back door.

“Wipe your feet. I know it’s muddy out there.” He grumbled. They both sighed and he was pretty sure they were rolling their eyes too, but he could hear them scraping their feet on the mat he kept in front of the door.

“Done.” Dean announced, and stopped to take his shoes off. He set them on the shoe rack by the door and padded over to the stove to investigate.

“Wash your hands and set the table.” Bobby instructed. Dean did as told while Sam fished around in the fridge for something to drink.

“No soda, Sam. Water or iced tea, that’s it.” 

The younger boy whined and grabbed the pitcher of sweet tea.

“Are we having company again tonight?” Bobby turned the stove off and picked up the pot, carrying it to the kitchen table. Almost as if he had the gift of foresight, the front doorbell rang. Sam snickered and Dean shot him a dirty look before he went to answer it. He reappeared as Sam was setting the table. Four place settings. Dean walked back into the kitchen, his friend Castiel right on his heels. 

Yeah. Friend.

Bobby looked up at the boy, feeling a flash of anger when he took in the boy’s black eye and bruised cheek. He set the pot down and reached over, taking the boy’s chin gently in one hand and examining it.

“Your daddy drinking again?” He asked. Castiel dropped his gaze, even though he couldn’t drop his head.

“Yes, sir.” He replied softly. Dean stepped closer, his natural need to protect those he cared about taking over. He took Castiel’s hand and squeezed it.

“Can he stay the night, Uncle Bobby?” He asked.

“I’ll call his mama, but it’s fine by me. What about your brother?” Bobby let go of Castiel’s chin but was still looking at him, waiting for an answer.

“He went to his friend’s house for the night. Mother told me to come here.” Castiel replied.

“Alright. Go wash up for dinner. You too, Sam. I know you didn’t wash your hands yet.” Bobby eyed his younger nephew who stomped his foot before joining Castiel at the sink.

Dinner was nothing special, just some egg noodles, tuna fish, and cheese, but it brought a smile to Bobby’s lips seeing how all three of them ate with enthusiasm. Castiel even complimented his cooking, just as he always did. He had learned shortly after the boy had befriended Dean that his mother barely knew how to boil water, let alone actually cook, and his father didn’t do anything in the kitchen except grab more beer from the fridge, so Castiel and his brother Gabe lived on Ramen noodles and dollar store frozen dinners that had hardly anything to them at all. Coming over to eat at Bobby’s was like going to a four star restaurant for the boy, and Bobby couldn’t turn him away. When the food was all gone He pulled out a pie for dessert. He knew it was Dean’s favorite and the boy’s grades had been coming up this year with help from Castiel. He deserved a treat for his hard word.

“Oh boy!” Dean exclaimed when he saw the pie.

“Get down the small plates.” Bobby told him. “And clean forks.”

Dean scrambled to get the plates and the forks. Castiel helped him set the table and Bobby cut the pie, serving each boy a generous slice. Dean moaned around each mouthful, earning wide eyed looks from Castiel and eye rolls from Sam. Bobby just snickered and ate his own piece. He’d done pretty darn good, if he said so himself.

After dinner he ordered the boys to do the dishes, and Castiel jumped right in with them. They had a system that flowed easier when Castiel came over. He had the ability to quietly neutralize any arguments that sprung up between Dean and Sam. Usually with logic aimed at the younger Winchester and a soft touch or whispered words for Dean. Bobby found the house much more peaceful when he was over. 

Once the dishes were done and put away, the boys all wandered into the living room where Bobby was stretched out on the couch with a beer. It was Friday so there was no need to make them go to bed early.

“You boys want to watch a movie?” He asked. Three heads nodded.

“Heck yeah. Can we watch something scary?” Dean asked. Castiel folded his arms against his chest and hugged himself tight.

“Those scare me.” He frowned up at Dean who simply grinned at him and slung an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m here, I won’t let the monsters get you.” 

Bobby was pretty sure there was a double meaning hidden in his nephew’s words. The boy was very protective of his friend.

“I’m going to go read in my study for a while. Behave yourself and be quiet. No picking on Sam.” Bobby said firmly as he got up.

“Don’t fall asleep reading.” Dean teased.

“Boy, you’re not old to take over my knee.” Bobby growled. Dean snickered.

“I’d break your delicate knee.” 

Bobby was about to say something as his temper started to flair but Castiel was already moving to diffuse the situation. He placed a hand on Dean’s arm and looked up at him.

“Dean, don’t be rude. Your uncle cares very much for you and Sam. He made a wonderful dinner tonight, just as he does every night, and he’s letting you stay up to watch movies. Show some respect.”

Dean’s expression softened, becoming thoughtful and perhaps a touch remorseful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He told his uncle. Bobby gave Dean a warning look before heading to his study. He trusted the boys to behave. Castiel would keep them in line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2015**

**Dean- 27**  
Cas- 27  
Sam- 23 

“You can’t do that, old man.” Dean laughed. Bobby shot him a dirty look as he stood up straight and rubbed at his lower back. It ached something fierce after spending two hours bent over the car engine. He had tried to disconnect the alternator but the arthritis in his fingers wasn’t helping him and he ended up cutting a finger on one of the bolts. Pulling the rag from his back pocket he tried to staunch the flow of blood.

“Shaddap ya idjit.” The glare he shot Dean only made the man laugh harder.

“You’re too old for this. Here, let me do that.” He nudged Bobby aside and removed the part in less than five minutes. Bobby had struggled with it for nearly twenty before Dean had walked past and noticed. It annoyed him that his nephews both thought he was unable to work on cars anymore without assistance.

“Dean, your uncle was doing fine. Why did you jump in?” Cas walked over, frowning when he saw Dean under the hood of the car.

“He hurt himself. Couldn’t get the alternator out.” Dean replied. Cas turned his attention to Bobby’s hand.

“Are you alright?” He took the older man’s hand and pulled back the rag that was pressed against the wound. It was still bleeding pretty steadily.

“It’ll get infected, there’s grease all over your fingers. Come, I’ll clean it up.” 

Bobby wanted to argue but the boy was persistent, and it was nice knowing someone cared. Not that Dean and Sam didn’t care, but Cas was more sensitive, more empathetic. In a way the boy reminded him of his wife Karen. Dean reminded him a lot of himself. He often thought that was the reason they had connected and why they had fallen in love. He’d never begrudged Dean his one true love, not like his father would have, had the bastard stuck around to actually raise his kids. John had dropped the boys off one hot summer afternoon when Dean was twelve and Sam was eight, and aside from two brief visits over the course of the next year, he stopped coming around altogether. Bobby later found out that the son of a bitch had met a lady, married her, and had another son. He was raising that boy and loved him deeply. Dean and Sam were all but forgotten. Bobby loved them like they were his own kids, and they looked at him like he was their father more than their uncle. Even Cas looked at him like he was the father he always wished he could have, despite how cranky Bobby always was. Truth be told, he loved all his boys.

He let Cas clean up his finger and after determining it wouldn’t need stitches, allowed the boy to bandage it. Cas smiled sweetly, proud of himself for being able to help even this little bit. Dean walked over, stooping over to kiss Cas on the cheek before holding out the damaged alternator to Bobby.

“So, it’s going to need to be replaced. I can order the part, should be here by Thursday.” 

“Go ahead. We have three more to work on. Run up to the house and get me some ibuprofen.” Bobby told him. Dean set the alternator down and started the trek back to the house.

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re too old to be working on cars.” Cas said. Bobby huffed out a small laugh.

“Dean and Sam both, they’ll be where I am one day. Won’t be so funny then. Just you watch.” 

Cas smiled. “I know, and you’re right. One day they’ll learn that lesson.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2038**

**Dean- 50**  
Cas- 50  
Sam- 46 

“Shit.” Dean hissed and flexed his hand, willing the twinge of pain he was feeling to go away.

“Hand bothering you again?” Cas looked over the rim of his glasses at his husband.

“It’s fine. Just aches a little.” Dean reluctantly admitted.

“It’s swollen, I can see it from here. Would you like me to get some ice for it?” Cas set his book aside and stood up. Dean hesitated before nodding. Cas left, returning a few minutes later with an ice pack.

“You’re going to need another cortisone shot. I think you’ll have to let the boys do more of the dirty work from here on out, so you don’t strain your hands any more than you already do.” Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling when the man leaned into his touch.

“Why the hell do I even have arthritis anyway? I just turned fifty a few months ago? My hands and my knees ache all the damn time. I hate this.” It came out more as a sigh than a full blown complaint. It was hard to be angry at yourself when the man you loved was massaging your scalp with one hand and your shoulder with the other. The silver of Cas’ wedding band caught in the fading sunlight streaming through the window and he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. He still marveled over the fact that he was the one that put it there all those years ago, and that Cas still loved him as much as he did when they were just boys.

“Sweetheart, you work with your hands, day in and day out. The constant stress on your joints is incredible. I’m honestly surprised you weren’t having issues years ago.” Cas told him.

“I was, but not like this. All I’m doing right now is typing, creating a damn expense report, and my hands are aching.” Dean complained.

“It’s cause you’re getting old, dad.” Their daughter Elyse said as she passed through the room on her way to the kitchen.

“I am not getting old.” Dean shot back. She rolled her eyes as she pulled a carton of milk from the fridge.

“Uh yeah, you are.” She countered. “Look at your hair, it’s almost all gray now. You’re getting wrinkles, and everything aches. You’re getting old. Even Papa has gray hair now.” She pointed at Cas who self-consciously reached up to touch his own hair. He had noticed a few silver ones peeking through his dark locks recently. Thankfully they were only showing up on his head. When Dean went to say something more about it, Cas squeezed his shoulder and shook his head.

“Why? She’s being a punk!” Dean said low enough so only Cas would hear. Once she had poured her milk and left the room, Cas sat down on the couch and looked him in the eye.

“Does it hurt your feelings when she says things like that?” He asked.

“It’s rude, we’ve raised the kids better than that.” Dean frowned.

“I agree, we have, but I did ask you a question.” 

“Yeah, it stings.” Dean grunted.

“I thought it did. Do you remember how you used to say things like that to your Uncle Bobby? He was a good, hard working man and you teased him constantly about his arthritis, his bifocals, his inability to eat spicy foods, and anything else you could think up, all because he was getting up there in age. I hate to break it to you, darling but you’re the same age your uncle was when he took you and Sam in. It’s not fair to judge someone based on their age, but you did it, and now Elyse is doing it. We’ll have to sit her down and explain that it’s rude and hurts feelings. In the meantime though, would you like me to do something to make you feel better?” Cas arched an eyebrow playfully, piquing Dean’s interest.

“Oh…what did you have in mind, babe?”

Cas, so sweet and gentle could be wicked when he wanted to, and he wanted to be right now.

“I think we should take this up to our room.” He said.

“I am fully on board for that!” Dean agreed. No one would be telling him he was too old for _that_!

**Author's Note:**

> Dean got his comeuppance in the end. Ain't karma a bitch? Gotta love her though!
> 
> I hope you liked this one. Leave a comment and a kudos, let me know what you think.
> 
> I'm not 50 and won't be for some time, but I can attest to the aches and pains, and the stupid blurry vision!!!!!!


End file.
